


ever forward, forever upward

by gingerpunches



Category: Mass Effect: Andromeda
Genre: 5+1 Things, AI have thoughts and feelings too, Canon-Typical Violence, I wanted to explore the relationship Ryder would have with SAM if they share thoughts and feelings, Introspection, Kinda, M/M, especially where SAM is concerned
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-05
Updated: 2017-04-05
Packaged: 2018-10-15 00:00:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,336
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10546582
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gingerpunches/pseuds/gingerpunches
Summary: (SAM is not afraid of death - but Scott is, and they are the same person a whole lot of the time)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This began as a study on how SAM would work being inside the head of a Pathfinder. SAM being the most intelligent and most advanced AI in the Mass Effect universe, it's interesting how he forms his opinions on Ryder's actions (or, lack of opinion, as he's often eschewing one in favor of saying he's shared Ryder's actions, therefore he cannot judge them). Honestly this is just my take on how an organic-AI relationship would play out if they shared a brain and a body. Thanks for reading!
> 
> edit: also italics are SAM's private channel to Ryder. If he's speaking in quotes, it's through comms to the Tempest crew.

++++

 

_ (The first time Scott dies, he doesn’t even really realize it. It feels more like an odd nap than anything else.) _

His father is yelling above him, muted and far away, much too far away to just be from the helmet being shoved over Scott’s head. The seals snap into place on Scott’s suit but it’s still too late: he can feel his lungs burning from the nitrogen-argon atmosphere, his body growing weak despite Alec holding his shoulders as they both fall to the side, his brain burning like all of his neurons are on fire. Something is wiggling inside his thoughts, like a presence he can’t quite grasp, but when his body hits the ground, he goes limp, and every cognitive function he may have kept those few precious seconds he was upright fled him as everything went dark. 

Then a brightness in the black of his mind, like a lance of biotic energy, shoots past his consciousness. It twists and warps upon itself, a folding of shiny blue layers of information, chaotic and orderly at the same time; it fumbles for a hold in the dark, but when it gets a grip, it spreads across his brain, down his spine, stretching far and deep, to his ribs, his heart, his fingers and toes. When it starts to slow and solidify, the blue glow that once lit the darkness fades, but it is no less  _ solid _ \- it stays, almost confident in its own existence, with only a hint of self-doubt and something else, like fear or guilt, reflecting back at him. 

But only for a small moment. He’s weak and he can’t hold onto himself on his own, and when the dull, almost non-existent thud of his heart slows and stops, he is alone, his thoughts scattering to the void, lost in the dark. 

And then, there’s silence. 

But it doesn’t stay with him, the silence. He doesn’t fully understand how quiet his own head was until he wakes and SAM is in the back of his head, like a strong ocean current, curling and confident, only vaguely afraid. A quiet hum emanates from his temple, but it is not at all unpleasant; more like being in the same room as someone, acknowledging that presence, but it’s still across the room, distant from himself. 

It’s an odd feeling, and when he sits up from the cot on the floor in SAM node, Liam is there, staring at him, gaze full of worry. SAM starts to move in his brain but Scott doesn’t  _ understand, _ this odd thing twisting in his brain, stretching to each border of his body, testing its boundaries while he counts all his limbs and his fingers.

“What?” Scott says to Liam. Liam stares at him, an odd look crossing his eyes before settling on something more neutral. “Is there something on my face?”

Liam doesn’t smile. He glances behind him, to SAM’s interface as it floats and twists in the air, then back to Scott’s face. He looks as if he doesn’t recognize Scott - but then he’s popping up off the floor and yelling for the others to come see Scott, and Scott is left reeling. 

_ You are not fully recuperated _ _ , _ SAM says. His voice is so clear and close that it makes Scott jump even as he struggles off the cot on the floor. He looks around, confused, almost positive that SAM’s voice hasn’t ever been that close to his ear before. SAM had always sounded like he’s two or three feet to Scott’s right, speaking to him through a grainy microphone. SAM twists in his head, agitated.  _ Be careful _ . 

“Did you guys just hear SAM?” Scott says. Cora takes his forearm and starts to lead him out of SAM node, her brow cocking upward. Liam walks on his other side, antsy. 

“No?” Liam says. “Look, we have to go - they’re bringing out your own ship!”

“What?”

Cora starts to cajole him. It’s almost like the two of them are herding him away from something dark, like a deep secret or bad news. It sets him on edge, his stomach heavy. “They’ve really pulled the stops out, Ryder. You’re going to love this,” Cora says. “You’ve never seen anything like this.”

_ You need more time, Scott _ _ , _ SAM says, hesitant.  _ Slow down _ .

“Okay, let’s stop for a minute,” Scott says, more forceful than he feels. It stops Liam and Cora in their tracks - their eyes land on him, worried and surprised at the same time. Scott’s heart is pounding in his chest, fear and something close to dread wrapping around his chest, constricting him. He’s disoriented enough that he still can’t really feel his limbs, like he’s floating or half asleep. Scott puts a hand to his chest and breathes deep; SAM calms with him as he takes in each breath, and that in and of itself is a feeling he’s going to have to get used to, having another consciousness in his head. 

“Just,” Scott says, voice shaky. “Everyone slow down. I have questions.”

_ They do not want to answer _ _ , _ SAM says. 

“What?” Scott says.

“We didn’t say anything,” Cora says. Her voice is low, barely above a whisper. She’s looking at him like he’s grown a second head.

“SAM said something - you really didn’t hear that?”

Liam and Cora both shake their heads. Cora reaches out and presses her palm to Scott’s forehead, and while her palm is cool, he doesn’t think she finds anything wrong with his temperature, so she drops her hand. Liam shifts from foot to foot, still full of nervous energy, an energy Scott isn’t comfortable with.

Scott takes in a deep breath and closes his eyes. “Okay, since no one wants to talk. What’s going on, SAM?”

SAM’s voice is farther away when he speaks next, like it normally was before the fiasco on Habitat 7.  _ “You have been made the new Pathfinder, Scott. You were clinically dead for twenty-two seconds. You were brought to SAM node so I could complete the transfer to you.” _

“ Uhm, huh?” Scott says. Something sinks inside him, a lead weight falling through his boots into the floor. Dread itches up his spine. “Where’s dad?”

SAM is silent. Cora and Liam can’t seem to meet his eyes - they look at his shoes, his shoulders, the wall. SAM is an anxious ball of energy in his head, curling and uncurling on himself, a river current unsure of where it should go next. 

Scott can’t think, can’t breathe, and before he can force a word out SAM is pushing him out the door and down the hall, towards a room he doesn’t recognize once he’s inside - but when he collapses onto the bed in the corner it smells like dad’s sharp cologne. 

_ Rest _ _ , _ SAM says, quiet and sad in his head.  _ They are expecting too much of you in so little time _ .

It’s true, then? He wants to say, but he can’t force the words out. A lead ball is forming in his throat, choking him, and even as he feels an odd, soothing, cool wave fall over him, he doesn’t feel comforted in the slightest. SAM twists in his head, unsure of himself, but he can feel the both of them struggling with reconciling two facts that Scott doesn’t really want to face yet: the sacrifice of a father for a son, and the very real reality that an AI is sharing his every thought and action, seeing what he sees, feeling what he’s feeling. 

Scott doesn’t know what to do, so he doesn’t do anything. He simply lays there, prone, memories of his father flash in his mind’s eye: the time he taught Scott and Sara how to ride bikes, the first time Alec signed them up to biotic lessons on the Citadel, the moment Alec introduced them to the Initiative and asked them to be there when they made the long jump - hundreds of memories, some big and some small, but all few and far between because they had never gotten too close. Not afraid of each other, but afraid of what would happen if they truly collided.

_ Two neutron stars, orbiting but never coming in contact with each other _ _ , _ SAM says. For a moment he sounds like his mother, her voice weak and resigned to the fact that her husband and her children were never close. Not for lack of trying, but it seemed to her like Alec had children and cared for them right up until they were self sufficient, then let go, spreading them to the winds only to knock them down with his illegal AI research. 

So much for a supportive father. He could laugh if he didn’t feel as if a hole had been carved into his chest where his parents should have been. 

“SAM?” he says into his pillow. SAM stirs in his mind, quietly attentive. It’s a feeling he will get used to, having another consciousness in his head, something that will come with time. Although he supposes now he’s already grown into it with SAM’s unassuming assistance. 

“Did my father love us? Sara and I?”

More flashes, memories of things he didn’t experience himself: they’re from vantage points that are low on tables, looking up at Alec, sometimes at Scott and Sara, but always with Ellen, her face drawn and tired. Scott realizes these are SAM’s memories when Ellen looks down at him and smiles, something small and bright, and SAM always logs the moment to keep, hidden and safe in his own memories. But then SAM cuts to Alec - not many memories of him are fond, especially from SAM’s point of view as a creation of Alec’s, but there are some, small things like congratulating Scott on his graduation day from boot camp, seeing Sara off to her first Prothean dig, and watching as Scott and Sara are put to sleep in their stasis pods, his hand lingering on the glass over their faces, soft and caring. 

_ He cared _ , SAM says. Scott can feel tears soaking into his pillow, but he doesn’t stop them. SAM doesn’t, either.  _ More than he let you know. He was afraid of hurting you more than he did when he was developing me _ _. _

_ So yes, he loved you. He never stopped. I think sometimes he just forgot to show it. _

Scott doesn’t emerge from his father’s room until hours later, his face scrubbed clean from tears but his clothes rumpled from sleep. SAM guides him through the Hyperion to the Nexus, and then to his ship, the  _ Tempest _ . It gleams white and pink in the simulated sunlight of the Nexus’ central ring, but she is still beautiful, even as he steps aboard and can’t shake the feeling that he is taking someone else’s footsteps, one after the other, ingrained into his head by a force he can’t begin to understand. 

 

+++


	2. Chapter 2

+++

 

_(The second time Scott dies, he doesn’t really.)_

Hail the size of softballs pelts the surface of Voeld, and Scott, as unfortunate and unlucky as he is, is caught on the back of the skull with one as he’s putting on his helmet getting out of the Nomad.

He’s knocked clean out. He crumples to the snow, and SAM can do nothing but witness it all right up until Scott’s brain shuts off from the blow, rendering SAM blind and deaf to Scott’s surroundings. It’s like being cut in half or split into separate beings, parts of him blind to himself, his senses dulled to that of simple scans and comm relays.

It’s terrifying and infuriating. He’s been in Scott’s head for only a few months, but being without him is like being alone in a dark auditorium, his senses narrowed to just a strip of light shining down on him, bright and unfocused at the same time. He turns all his attention to the comms, thankful at least he can still _hear_.

 _“Scott has been rendered unconscious,”_ SAM says, quickly and quietly to Cora and Drack. He feels more than he sees Cora react - her implant is deeper than Liam’s, but not like Scott’s. It provides him with a small insight into her surroundings as she struggles with Drack to load Scott into the Nomad, but being so long in Scott’s head has made him rely too much on having eyes and ears and hands to do things and experience life with. Even as he partitions himself to deal with those on the Hyperion and Nexus, he doesn’t feel as blind as he does now.

“What hit him?” Cora says over the comm. SAM gives her the most basic answer - a hit to the head - but even as he speaks to her he feels like he does when Scott uses his biotics too hard during a firefight. Something akin to a headache begins, and the more it spreads, the more muted he feels, even as he stretches to the Nomad and _Tempest_ camera feeds to assess the damage.

“Can you discern the damage, SAM?” Lexi says. Her voice is panicked, but she hides it well enough that it doesn’t alert the others on the ship. SAM can feel his head aching, a burning sensation that spreads quicker and hotter as time passes, and in his own consciousness he knows it’s not _his_ head that’s hurting. But it’s all he can feel through the implant, all he can focus on. Everything else is like walking through a blizzard.

 _“He is - unconscious, obviously,”_ SAM says. Drack snorts at him over the comm. _“However, I am having a difficult time assessing his situation. Please get him aboard the ship. I may be able to tell you more.”_

“Uh, what?” Liam says. SAM can see him pacing in the _Tempest_ research room, full of nervous energy. He’s staring at the ceiling in the same way Lexi does when she’s talking to SAM. “Don’t you have access to his implant?”

_“I am unable to “see” through it at the moment. His injury may be deeper than it appears.”_

They leave him alone at that - either out of respect or concern, he’s not sure. He’s finding it hard to focus even as they bring Scott aboard, alive and breathing, albeit fast asleep, blood dripping from a cut on the back of his head from where the ball of ice sheared a piece of his helmet into his skin.

Scott’s implant still will not respond, however, and SAM is floundering quietly as the team shakes off the initial shock of Scott being knocked clean out by a stray ball of ice. Most of them are laughing it off because of how silly it truly is - and SAM has to concede, it sort of is - but others are concerned; Lexi, Cora, Gil, and Jaal are all hovering around the medbay as Scott snoozes away, close enough to read the vitals the bed Scott is lying on are giving out since SAM can’t reach his implant to asses them.

Scott is fine, though, and SAM knows that even before Lexi makes her final log in his file after running him through the normal contingent of tests she would do for someone in a low-grade coma. But his implant was rendered “unconscious” when Scott went under - an unforeseen defect of Ellen’s hard work, but SAM supposes it was something they never truly got to test; falling asleep is different than being suddenly knocked out. However unfortunate, Scott will be fine when he wakes, the implant simply needing time to recalibrate from the sudden drop in connection.

When an hour goes by and Scott is still asleep, the crowd around the medbay disperses except for Lexi, who pulls a chair up next to his bed with her datapad and makes herself comfortable.

“Are you still there, SAM?” she says. SAM startles but focuses his attention on the medbay, willing the confusing blindness of not having Scott’s senses to aid him to go away.

_“Yes, albeit barely.”_

Lexi smiles. “I figured. You’ve been quiet.”

SAM does the AI equivalent of a sigh. _“I took too much of his implant. I cannot “see” or “hear” as I normally do through him. It is… disorienting.”_

“Ah, I see. I take it you tried to talk to the implant, and it’s not responding?”

_“Yes. We will have to wait until he wakes on his own, however uncomfortable that may be for me in the meantime.”_

Lexi nods in understanding. He supposes it’s similar to how Sara’s implant is. He reaches out to her across lightyears, star systems, whole worlds separating them; but he reaches her in an instant and can feel her sleeping, if not deeper than her brother. But with no effort at all he can see her vitals, her heart beating strong in her chest, her brain waves calm and steady and yet active and alive, as if she was vividly dreaming. When he does the same to her brother, he gets nothing but deafening static, and it worries him right up until Scott gasps awake, sudden and with force, as if he was breaching a deep sea after a long dive.

Suddenly his senses flood with information: he is sitting up, breathing hard, lungs burning and head aching with a sensation he cannot quite place. His limbs feel weak and his eyesight is blurry, like he’d been rubbing his eyes too much or gotten few hours of sleep. But he can hear the ship humming, he can feel Lexi’s hand as it comes to rest on his chest to push him back down onto the medbay bed, and when Gil bursts in, he can feel his chest swell with heat and affection - a feeling he has not had since before Alec died, and even then it was muted, quieter than it was now.

SAM has to partition part of himself off to deal with the onslaught, but when Scott has calmed down and done all the tests Lexi puts him through to test if he has a concussion, SAM allows himself back into Scott’s senses. He is deliberately quiet, but Scott smiles to himself as he lays back in his own bed, and SAM immediately regrets it.

“I’m sorry for doing that to you, SAM,” Scott says. Scott is a soothing presence on SAM’s processes, and it calms him even as he begins to panic. “Didn’t see that ice ball coming. Sneaky bastard.”

 _If it is any consolation_ _,_ SAM says, _I didn’t either._

Scott snorts out a laugh and tucks himself into bed. SAM feels the cool slide of the sheets over his skin, and turns off the lights as Scott settles down, feeling comforted now that he has his senses back.   
  
_Do not feel sorry, either_ _._ Scott stirs, but SAM feels him drifting off to sleep, his breathing evening out into unconsciousness. _I should be the one apologizing. I took too much._

In the morning, after SAM has partitioned off Scott as he slept to deal with SAM node technicians and Director Tann, Scott deliberately writes an email and sends it to nowhere. SAM catches it as it stretches out into darkspace and reads it, and for the rest of the day on the _Tempest_ he is quietly embarrassed even as Scott goes about his day with a smile. He keeps the email, however, as silly as it is:

_SAM,_

_I wouldn’t be alive without you. Don’t sweat it, buddy._

_-Scott_

SAM doesn’t apologize again for taking too much of his implant. Not aloud, anyway; although he gets the feeling that Scott is silently aware of it every time the thought comes out of SAM’s processes, half-formed and on the tip of his tongue, but never said. He supposes that will have to do.  

 

+++


	3. Chapter 3

+++

 

_ (The third time, he actually dies, and he’s aware of it. It’s a strange feeling, knowing it’s coming, and not knowing if you’ll come back for sure.) _

Well. He doesn’t want to think about that. No sense in causing panic in his own stupid head if it’s the only way to get out of this mess.  

_ It will not hurt _ , SAM says. Even SAM doesn’t sound sure of himself, and isn’t that a silly feeling? An AI unsure of himself.  _ It will be quick. I will bring you back _ _. _

“You better come back,” Drack grunts behind him, echoing SAM almost perfectly. Scott snorts. “I’m serious, kid. I’m not explaining that to your sister.”

“Or to Gil,” Cora grits out. She’s struggling against the field holding them in place, but it’s no use, and she gives up after only a couple seconds of wiggling. “I can only deliver so much bad news before it starts to become bad luck.”

“You’re talking to me about bad luck?” Scott says. “I’m about to  _ die. _ ”

_ “And be brought back,” _ Sam says.  _ “Again.” _

Scott sighs. “Listen -”

“Scott Ryder,” Gil says over the comm, interrupting him. He sounds angry and frustrated - it shuts Scott up instantly. “You better get your ass back onto this ship, you hear me?”

Drack coughs out a laugh behind him. “Your boy is pushy, kid. You should listen to him.”

_ We must hurry, _ SAM says. He’s an anxious curl of energy around Scott’s brain, poised to strike at Scott’s heart. Guilt lances up and down Scott’s spine, not all of it his own. 

“Okay, guys, let SAM do his thing?” Scott says. “I kind of what to get out of here already.”

Drack grunts and Cora sighs behind him, and Gil starts muttering something in his ear. Lexi says she’s on standby in case anything truly bad happens to him - like he dies and SAM isn’t able to bring him back - but at this point, they can’t risk the  _ Tempest _ with the Archon’s ship pointing all those guns at the Paarchero.  SAM begins a thought but he severs it before it can be fully realized; Scott only gets a fleeting feeling of fear on SAM’s end before the grip on his heart tightens, gentle and sturdy at the same time. 

_ “Stopping your heart in three, two…” _  SAM says. He feels his body go heavy and limp. SAM goes quiet in the back of his head, like the implant has stopped talking to SAM back on the  _ Tempest _ , but before he can discern anything, he just  _ stops. _

Everything is dark. But in an instant, he is gasping for breath again, lurching off the cold, wet floor of the Archon’s ship, heart pounding in his chest. SAM is anxious, twisting on himself with worry and guilt, a silent argument with himself as he helps Scott to his feet, steadying him. Scott soothes him as much as he can before releasing Cora and Drack from the stasis field from a nearby console. Drack grunts out a quiet thanks and Cora touches his shoulder, grounding him, her eyes concerned but strong. 

He smiles at her and tosses his head to urge them on. As far as deaths go, this was the easiest. He only lost ten or fifteen seconds - in the grand scheme of things, barely blip in his personal timeline. SAM, however, is not impressed. 

_That was not easy for me to do_ _,_ SAM says, sometime later when the Paarchero is free from the Archon’s ship and they’re making last moment preparations before leaving for the Nexus. Scott stops what he’s doing and leans on the railing outside the engine room, pointedly ignoring Gil’s hot stare from behind the glass. _I did not want to do it. I do not like killing._

“I kill all the time, SAM,” Scott says. “I kind of have to.”

_ I share your actions. I do not judge you. However, I do not like killing  _ you.  _ It was traumatic enough the first time. _

Scott frowns. “You weren’t in my head the first time, SAM. Was it that bad?”

_ Yes _ _ , _ SAM says.  _ Because I felt what your father felt - he was terrified. He was so scared of losing you. All he could think about was ensuring you and Sara made it, even at the cost of his own life _ . 

Scott swallows thickly. It all comes crashing down on him at once: his father dead, the Initiative barely standing under its own weight, and SAM, cursed with the ability to feel what his host feels, death and rebirth among the millions of things he’s experienced since riding along in Scott’s head. SAM has had to witness him die twice now, and the second time, he pulled the trigger on Scott’s heart. Scott’s head spins with the thought, twirling in his mind like a pinwheel, nearly out of control from the force of the gales pushing it forward.

For a moment he can’t breathe; his chest constricts to a point where he feels suffocated, even though he’s wearing a loose shirt and the cargo bay is vast and cool around him. He pushes away from the railing and finds Gil in the engine room, putting his head on Gil’s shoulder even as the engineer turns around to berate him for causing him so much stress in the span of a few short hours. Rather than ask questions, Gil simply holds him, a gentle hand on the nape of his neck as the other strokes down his back. Scott doesn’t mean to, but he puts his weight on Gil at the touch; Gil doesn’t say anything to that, either. He stands there, holding him up, a silent comfort as Scott struggles to reconcile an easy death with a difficult one - a silly question to ask when an AI is the one struggling to ask it. 

“Yours?” Gil asks. A simple question, and the answer is always the same. Scott nods, and he’s led more than he leads to his room, Gil a steady presence in front of him.

_ Do not lose yourself in this _ _ , _ SAM says, quietly, when Scott has settled into bed, Gil warm and comforting around him, his hands carding through his hair. Scott feels a weight lifted off his shoulders as SAM continues.  _ Your father would have chosen you over and over again. He wanted you to live, to experience life even in this new and strange galaxy - he would have wanted you to be happy here, right now. He sacrificed himself so you could do what he couldn’t _ _. _

He wants to say “and what’s that?” but SAM is already letting him understand: a succession of memories, recent and warm, flashes of Gil’s flustered face when Scott took his hand that first time on Eos, Cora and Liam’s silly arguments in the research room after missions, Kallo’s dramatic flair during even the most mundane conversations and Jaal’s comforting hand on his shoulder; Drack’s approving smile after a hard fight and Suvi’s quiet offerings of tea, Lexi’s gentle hands on his face and wrists as she checks him over, Vetra unassumingly “acquiring” his favourite snacks and even Peebee’s caring, roundabout way of ensuring he’s getting rest at the oddest hours of the morning. 

“Okay,” Scott says. Gil mutters something above him, but he stays asleep, and Scott is thankful because it makes this seemingly one-sided conversation less weird. “I get it, SAM. Get some rest.”

_ I rest when you do, Scott _ _ , _ SAM says.  _ It’s only fair. _

Scott sighs. Right. It’s only fair. 

 

+++


	4. Chapter 4

+++

 

_ (The fourth time, he’s slowly dying, a fact he’s sure the fucks under the Archon’s command would be too pleased with.) _

SAM has been ripped from him, leaving his mind frayed and unhinged. Every thought is a mental gymnastic, a hoop he has to jump through despite feeling like he’s been split in two. He didn’t ever really understand how deep SAM’s influence went until it was completely gone, his implant struggling to talk to a being that is no longer responding, creating a migraine that’s worse than those he gets after a hard day throwing his weight around with biotics. It’s a throbbing, burning sensation that grows with each breath and each thought, hemorrhaging all inkling thoughts before he can act on them. 

Static buzzes in his brain where SAM should be. Jaal and Cora help him to his feet, but it’s like he’s been strapped to the floor, and he struggles to even hold his own weight as they walk him out of not-Meridian’s control room. He doesn’t even feel the needle Lexi pokes him with until she’s yanking it away and sticking him with four others - he doesn’t even realize they’d stripped him of his armor until she’s on the sixth and still pulling out more. Sudden awareness crashes on him when she’s finished, but only for a few short moments; then he’s swimming in his own thoughts, the sounds and sights of his crew surrounding him and holding him up a mirage, shaking and melting before he can focus on any one person or thing. 

“He’s not going to be able to do this on his own,” Lexi says, her voice low and concerned. At least, he thinks it’s her - she’s standing close to him, her hands on his face, gentle and cool even as he’s burning from the inside out. 

“What did you even stick him with?” That voice, at least, he recognizes. Gil is on his other side, holding him up with an arm wrapped around his waist, his fingers wrapped around Scott’s as Scott grips what he can of Gil’s shoulder.

He sways, but he feels Drack push him back up onto his feet from behind him. “A cocktail of painkillers and stimulants,” Lexi says. She almost sounds guilty. “Without SAM, his body isn’t used to regulating them on its own. He’s had SAM to do it for him for months now.”

A sinking feeling, like he’s going to puke, comes over him. He lurches over and loses his breakfast on the shiny, weirdly holographic tiling of the Remnant city; someone holds him up while he hurls, then pulls him away to help him sit on the incline of the  _ Tempest _ ’s onramp, helping him put his head between his knees. Cold water splashes over the back of his neck, but he doesn’t even flinch. 

“Just breathe for a minute,” Gil says above him. Scott can feel his hands in his hair and on the exposed skin of his neck, rubbing cold water around his biotic amp and over his temple, where SAM’s implant is. “Lexi just pumped you full of stuff we aren’t sure won’t keep you on your feet.”

“I feel like I’m really drunk,” Scott slurs. A laugh booms from his right side, but he’s not sure who it was - everyone besides Gil is swimming in his vision. He thinks maybe it was Drack or Peebee, but he’s not positive. “What’s going on? SAM isn’t talking.”

“The Archon took SAM, and the Hyperion,” Kallo says. “And your sister.”

The sinking feeling is back, but he doesn’t hurl up anything from his stomach. It’s the same feeling he got when his father comm’ed him back in the Milky Way, asking for him and his sister to sit down so they can talk about mom. That was the first time Scott had really cried, and for the rest of his life, the feeling of dread would never truly leave him. It was like he was standing on the edge of a precipice, ready to step off, but never quite there yet, his foot hanging in the air ready to drop him at any moment.  

“I can’t… I can’t lose her,” Scott grinds out. He tries to stand, getting his feet under him and using Gil’s shoulders to haul himself up, but even as Gil starts to stand Scott can’t get his legs to respond. A part of him is gone, and now he’s starting to feel it. He’s being ripped in two. “Gil,  _ help me _ .”

“Okay,” Gil says. He gets a better grip under Scott’s arms and hauls him up, using his own weight as a counter, swinging them both upwards. Surprisingly, Scott doesn’t feel like falling over: his feet stay sturdy under him. He doesn’t know if it’s because of his own force of will or the drugs Lexi pumped him with. 

“You can’t keep this up, sweetheart,” Gil whispers as Scott shuffles to the rest of the crew. His vision is starting to clear, albeit slowly. He can make out the faces of Cora and Peebee closest to him. “You’re going to wipe yourself out at this rate.”

“We have to stop him,” Scott says. Gil keeps his hold on him as Scott tries to walk himself over to the nearest Remnant console - he slips twice, and both times someone helps Gil steady him, multiple hands coming out to get a grip on Scott’s exosuit as he struggles under his own weight. He gets to the console and holds his hand out over it like SAM was still there to interface with it, but instead of the cool, water-like sensation of SAM filtering down his arm and out into his omnitool to manipulate the consoles, he forces his own willpower onto it. His brain starts to  _ burn _ , like the first time SAM had skittered across his brain, forging new neurons and reinforcing old ones, but this time it’s like his head's splitting in two, separating into Scott and into something  _ other _ . 

It’s the  _ other _ part that tells the console to activate, and that same part of him tells the Remnant to build - and they do. Before he can take his hand away from the console, a Remnant ship rises from beyond the lip of the platform the  _ Tempest _ crew is gathered on: it’s easily four times as big as the  _ Tempest _ , dwarfing her in bulk, but it’s silent as it rises, a vigil as it and others begin to shake off the space dust on their hulls and drift above Meridian. 

“You -” Lexi starts, but Scott collapses before she can get her words out. Gil and Cora catch him before he can crack his head on the floor, but he can’t get himself to sit up, let alone stand - they let him rest, their hands comforting on his back and shoulders. 

“He’s bleeding,” Gil says, panic rising in his voice. “Look, we have to get him somewhere -”

“Where’s that?” Peebee snaps. “If the Archon’s got the Hyperion and SAM, then we’re doomed. No way he’s not already on his way to burn each colony we have to the ground.”

“But Scott got those Remnant ships up with just his own head,” Suvi says. “We can use them against the Archon!”

“We don’t even know what they do!”

“Well it’s better than nothin -”

“Shut  _ up! _ ” Scott shouts. His head rings with their cut off voices - he feels Gil’s hands, cool and reassuring as they touch his hair and amp. His breathing starts to calm from the panic attack that was building behind his ribs. “You’re all - you’re all connected to those colonies. So get them to help!”

Sweet silence carries over the group. Scott breathes, shaky, each movement a chore without SAM to guide him. Each muscle throbs, every breath quakes, and with each thought his brain is alight, burning and searing as he tries to sort through his own thoughts without the calming ocean current in the back of his mind, washing away his pains with a simple whim. 

He’s dying from the inside out, and if they don’t get to SAM, he won’t be coming back from this one. 

His team seems to read his mind. He feels hands that aren’t Gil’s wrap around his shoulders, his wrists, grip his exosuit and his fingers - they all help him stand, steadying him as his legs want to give out under him. They hold him up as Lexi checks him over and wipes the blood from his nose; he didn’t even realise it had started bleeding, but even as she cleans it away, it starts again, dripping off his chin to the floor. 

“We rally everyone,” Scott grinds out. Each words scrapes his throat, but he keeps going. “Every able bodied person, every angora on our side, every back-water hick that can hold a gun. Get them to Meridian. We need to take it back so our colonies won’t die.”

“We need it so  _ you _ won’t die,” Lexi shoots back. “Without SAM, you’re going not going to make, no matter what I shoot you up with. You only have a few hours.”

Scott huffs. Blood drips into his mouth, coppery and unpleasant. Gil wipes it away to no avail - a gesture of comfort more than anything. “Then we better move fast, huh?”

They get him onto the ship and strapped in at medbay, where Lexi gets him onto more stable painkillers and stimulants. She puts him on an incredibly strong neuro depressant as well - something only fit for krogan in the fits of intense rage, but she uses it anyway, saying that without SAM, he’s going to fry his brain simply by thinking too much. She doesn’t let him leave, but she allows Gil into the room, who takes him into his arms and holds him, fear causing his hands to shake. 

“We need to get SAM back,” Gil says into his hair. Scott sighs, closing his eyes, letting Gil pillow his head against his chest. Gil is a gentle, soothing presence, his calloused hands touching his neck, his shoulders, his hair, a nervous back and forth that calms himself as much as it calms Scott. “I’m not going to lose you just because your stupid head can’t function without SAM rooming in there too.”

“I don’t want to die,” Scott sighs out. He presses his face further into Gil’s shirt, his hands gripping Gil’s back like a vice. For the first time, he’s scared of death. Each time he’s been brought back by a force he doesn’t quite understand, but this is for real this time. No going back. 

Gil kisses his hair, his temple above the implant, his forehead, his nose. He sinks down into the chair Lexi had pushed over to them earlier, and Gil kisses him, deep and soft, cupping his face in his strong hands. Scott melts, for one fleeting moment forgetting the pain and the stimulants keeping him lucid. Now, it’s just him and Gil, in this little room on this big ship in an even bigger galaxy, two billion light years away from home. 

“I love you,” Scott says. Gil kisses him again, more forceful this time, but no less gentle. “Don’t let me die.”

He can feel tears on Gil’s cheeks and wipes them away. “I’ll drag you back and kick your ass myself if you do. There’s a shipful of people that’ll do the same. I won’t let you.”

Scott smiles despite the pain. Gil smiles too, shaky and bright, a fragile thing. “Okay.”

“I love you, Scott. Come back to me or I’ll kick your ass.”

 

+++

 

_ Hello, Scott. _

Scott startles awake. Gil mutters in his sleep behind him, jostled as Scott sits up, but he falls back asleep as Scott watches him, turning over and cuddling back into the sheets. Scott relaxes back into bed as well, letting the pillows he had hoarded from storage take his weight as he settles. He wraps an arm around Gil’s waist and tucks his face into his shoulder blades, keeping his voice low and quiet. 

“Sorry, SAM,” Scott says. “You scared me.”

_ I apologize. I did not mean to - _

“No, it’s alright. I think I was just sleeping really deeply.”

_ You were, _ SAM says. SAM is cool and peaceful behind his eyes, a comfortable weight on his brain. It’s been nearly two weeks since the Archon was killed, and still Scott was amazed SAM slotted back into his head so easily after the trauma being ripped from each other caused him. SAM had explained it to him - something about fingerprints and latent images on SAM’s processes - but Scott hadn’t been fully himself after getting SAM back. His brain was still stretched too thin after manipulating the Remnant without SAM. 

_ Do you wish to sleep? I could go _ _. _

Scott huffs a laugh. Gil twitches, his breath having tickled him. “No, SAM,” Scott says. “You’re fine. Did you need something?”

_No, I -_ _,_ SAM starts, then stops. He starts to twist on himself, as he is want to do when he is unsure of himself. It’s weird, having a knot in his skull that he can’t soothe, but SAM untangles himself after a moment, his thoughts still scattered but more solid than before. _I was simply wondering._

“Shoot,” Scott says. 

_ The butterflies, on your back and right wrist _ _ , _ SAM says.  _ What do they mean? _

Scott tilts his wrist of the hand that was resting on Gil’s stomach. He had forgotten all about his tattoos - when you live in among aliens who regularly use face tattoos and face paint to denote clan and family meaning, it’s easy to forget the silly things you get for no other reason than to have them. His tattoos are small, no bigger than the face of a watch, but they are incredibly detailed for their size, each marking on the butterfly’s wings inked into his skin with care. He can’t see the ones on his back, but Gil has said he likes them several times, his fingers tracing the line they create down his spine as they twist and turn in an invisible breeze. 

“They’re glasswing butterflies,” Scott whispers. He rotates his wrist so the slight green tinge to the ink catches the light from the bedside lamp, gleaming like oil on tarmac. “I got them on my twentieth birthday with Sara. She wanted to do something stupid that she’s seen other twins do, so we got matching ones. Hers is on the left wrist.”

_ But the ones on your back? She does not have them. _

“Nah,” Scott says. He drops his wrist and cuddles into Gil’s back. Gil sighs, more awake now, and grips his forearms, his callouses a pleasant scrape against his skin. “I got those before I came to Andromeda. To symbolize freedom and change.”

“What?” Gil mumbles. He turns in Scott’s arms, accidentally knocking his forehead into Scott’s nose. It hurts, but the smile on Gil’s face is second to none, so he doesn’t mind. “Sorry. Talking to SAM?”

“About anything and everything,” Scott says. Gil snorts out a laugh and tucks his head under Scott’s chin. His hair is sticking up every which way, sleep-soft and wild. It tickles, but Scott doesn’t mind that, either. “I promise I said nothing incriminating.”

“Har har. If what SAM says is true, he’s seen everything anyway. I just hope he doesn’t think I’m fat.”

_ No, I don’t _ _ , _ SAM says.  _ Gil is within the acceptable weight limit for his height and age _ _. _

“He says you’re fine,” Scott says, trying not to laugh. “Just in more words.”

Gil says something, but it’s muffled and slurred as he settles back into sleep. It amazes Scott how easily he can drop off practically on command - although with the amount of work he puts into the  _ Tempest _ , sometimes going sixty hours or more without rest, it’s not so surprising. Gil’s arms wrap around him loosely, and Scott kisses his hair as he feels him start to drift away. SAM drifts too, although he’s still aware, floating in his mind like he might in a calm pool of water. 

_ Rest, _ SAM says. 

“Alright,” Scott says. “You too.”

_ Only when you do. _

His head still pounds from time to time, and Sara isn’t cleared for ship life yet after she basically broke her brain controlling Meridian, but everyone is alive and well. SAM is a little rough around the edges still and Scott can’t shoot straight while he’s on the painkillers Lexi prescribed him for the next two months, but as far as death-defying stunts go, he couldn’t have asked for a better ending.

_ An easy death for a hard one - two galaxies twisting around each other, bound to collide. Tread your own path so others behind you may find peace. For now, you’ve earned your own. _

 

++++


End file.
